


Belonging

by Belladeana



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fear of Rejection, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Slow Burn Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belladeana/pseuds/Belladeana
Summary: The peace with the grounders a few months back seems to hold. Slowly, life is begining to regain some normalicy. Clarke finds herself starting to long for things she hasn't let herself think about for a long time. Like belonging to someone. But what if that someone doesn't want to belong to you?





	1. Chapter 1

It is early in the morning. The camp is slowly coming to life. Where she is sitting outside her tent, she can hear the murmuring voices, movements further away.

The people in the camp is getting ready to face another day on earth, hopefully one in a series of quiet days, since the peace with the grounders was signed a few months earlier. It is a fragile peace, there is no trust on either side. In the beginning, the whole camp was in a convulsive state, dared not believe that peace was possible, only making the most necessary trips out into the forests outside the camp boundaries, but for some time now, she can sense a reduction in the tension within the group, a collective exhalation. Life starts to revolve around other things again, not only to survive the day. 

She has felt it, too. A longing inside, vague, faceless, elusive but ever-present in her chest. Being part of something. Being someone's. Being in love. When her thoughts travels that far, she closes herself, refuses to address who that someone could be.

She knows that her traitorous body betrays her in the dark, at night, when she wakes up sweating, trembling, excited from the dreams of hard, dark eyes softening in hers, strong hands caressing her body, how she opens up, willingly, hot, wet, whispering "Bell..."

She presses er eyes shut, forces the unwanted images that arises in her mind away, stands up quickly, rolling her head on her shoulders, forcing herself to focus on the present. But her eyes betray her, they are looking, as so often, towards his tent. Is he awake? Or is he still asleep, warm and relaxed, the way he never allows himself to be when awake? Does he dream? If so, of what (her)?

When the canvas is lifted and a young woman (Nicole?) steps out, followed closely by Bellamy, she knows she should turn around, retreat into her tent, pretend she has not seen anything. That's what they do, let people have their privacy when something like that barely exists, but because of that even more important to respect. But her heart and soul being wide open in that moment, trying to understand the emotions and the need that is all concentrated around him (Bellamy!) makes it impossible and she freezes, staring as he leans in to press an absent-minded kiss on the girls cheek (Anna?) and she feels like he has stabbed her in the heart, the pain physical, almost making her moan outloud.

And that's when his eyes captures hers and he looks surprised as an emotion flashes over his face (shame? regret?) before it is gone. They stare at each other for a long time (a second, an eternity?) and his hard eyes softens but when he makes a motion towards her, she finally wakes up from her trance, turns around and takes refuge in her tent.

She sinks down to the floor, puts her arms around her midriff, begins rocking back and forth, feeling the heat behind her eyelids building, how a whining sound tries to get out of her mouth, sprung from a pain in her chest that she can not handle, do not want to explore the origin of, can not accept (Bellamy!)

She stiffens as she hears his voice just outside, on the other side of the canvas.

"Clarke? Can I come in?" 

She struggles with herself, to get control of her emotions. When she finally says "no!" she hears how strained her voice sounds.

"I am changing, I'm going out with Monty in the woods to gather plants," she manages.

"Ok!" A short silence. Then "Are you ok?"

She can not stop a half-hysterical giggle bursting out (Are you ok? Is she ok? Far from it!) but she bites her lip and answers "Sure, why wouldn't I be?" 

She is trying to sound unconcerned, but it comes out muffled and false even to her.

She dries her eyes, gets up and gathers herself. He says nothing at first, she goes to her bed to put on her hoodie when she hears him again.

"You looked ... sad ... just now. I just wanted to ... you know. Check. If I could ... well, if you wanted to tell me somethi ... talk, about it?" 

Clarke grabs her backpack, folds away the tent and walks past Bellamy without looking at him, while she calls out to Monty, who is waiting some distance away. "I will be right there!"

She then turns to Bellamy and finally looks at him (her hearts aches, she wants to slap his beautiful face, pull him into an embrace, push him away, hate him, love him. Love him. She loves him!) 

He has a guarded expression on his face, but his eyes are searching hers, concern in his eyes, an unspoken question hanging between them, has been there for quite some time now (always?). The answer is only a breath away but they both hold their breaths, chooking on it, never acknowledging it.

So she does the only thing she can do. "We have nothing to talk about. If that's all, I really need to get going?"

And so she turns and leaves, and she feels his gaze on her back all the way to the gate, it is burning between her shoulder blades, but the rest of her feels frozen, empty and miserable. She is alone. Not his. Not loved. When she reaches the gates she goes straight through without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

They walk in silence, she and Monty. It is one thing she likes about him, he has no need to constantly fill the silence with unwanted chatter. Had it not been for what she had just witnessed, she had probably appreciated their walk together. But right now she's busy trying to breathe through the pain that fills her as soon as she sees the image of Bellamy coming out of the tent with his ... well, what? A one-night stand? Mistress? Girlfriend?

The pain is intense, making her nauseous, but also angry. Why is she reacting this way? She knows that Bellamy is the camp's stallion, girls have been coming and going from his tent ever since they first landed on Earth. And why would they not? He is young and beautiful, sexy and dominant. A real alpha male. He can get anyone he wants and he picks from the buffet offered, without hesitation. He is single, free, he makes no promises, no false pretences. He likes sex and is obviously good in bed, judging by the wistful gazes that follows him wherever he goes. Why would anything be different now, just because she is different? Just because he's all she dreams about at night, alone in her tent? 

Besides, he knows nothing about it, and she will not tell. Ever! She refuses to be another girl in his harem, refuses to become one of the wistful waiting to be selected again. Besides, he's her best friend. Her confidant. Her co-leader. She will not (can not!) risk losing that by acknowledging that she is in love with him.

"Isn't those the flowers we are looking for?" 

Monty's question tears her out of her nagging thoughts and when she looks up, she sees his puzzled look.

"Yes, absolutely, good that you are paying attention, Monty!" she says quickly, eager to hide her embarrassment over her own lack of attention.

Monty still looks worried. 

"How are you? You seem a little absent today? Has something happened?" he asks.

She suddenly feels really guilty and self absorbed, realizing what she must have put him through. She is his leader, someone he depends on to be on top of things. And here she is, indulging in self pity, not for a moment considering his feelings. Who knows what he's gone and painted up as the reason for her melancholy ruminations? That the peace with the grounders are faltering?

"Monty, I'm sorry, I've slept poorly, had a few nightmares the last couple of nights, you know. Bad memories."

She doesn't need to say more. Monty just looks at her, nods, then looks away. She knows what he's thinking. Finn. The people in Mount Weather. Lexa. She feels remorse, because she lets him believe that her thoughts were on the dead who paid the price for their freedom, when she really is just unhappy about the fact that the one she wants is fucking others, unaware that she wants him.

Suddenly she is furious with herself. She is a survivor, a leader, Wanheda, for fucks sake! Not some pampered, lovesick teenager. Enough!

"Come on, let's pick these flowers so we can make it home in time for dinner!"

•

When they get back to camp, Clarke goes directly to the infirmary to hang the plants to dry. They have gathered a lot, she and Monty, they found a full meadow just after Monty's first discovery. It takes a while before she's done, and when she steps outside, it is already dark and dinner is already served. She reluctantly goes to the dining room. Ideally, she would like to be alone with her thoughts, but she is hungry after a long day without food so she forces herself to step inside the tent. It is crowded in there, people talking and laughing. She sweeps with her eyes and suddenly meets Bellamy's gaze.

He looks firm. Determined. He sits alone, but now he nods towards the chair opposite him. It's a nod that says he expects her to oblige, or things will get nasty. She takes the bowl of food that has just been served to her and goes to him, puts the bowl down on the table and sits down heavily.

"Hi" 

He does not answer, just looks at her. 

"I hope everything's been peaceful here while we were gone? Our trip went well, by the way, no grounders and we found lots of plants."

His answer is curt and blunt. "Ok. After you have eaten, you will come to my tent? There is one thing we need to discuss.

His voice is hard, tolerates no contradiction. She just looks at him, so he gives her a short nod and stands up. "Good! Then I'll see you in ten minutes!" 

With that he turns and leaves her there with a thousand thoughts spinning in her head.


	3. Chapter 3

She is left sitting at the table, lost in thoughts. What does he want to talk about? Could something have happened in the camp while she's been gone? But no, if it had been he would have said so directly. She can only assume that it is the event this morning he wants to discuss.

She thinks back, trying to see it from his perspective. Her staring, her rejection, what she said (we have nothing to talk about!) She realizes how confused he must feel, how frustrated he must have been during the day, unable to understand what he's done wrong? From his point of view, he was unceremoniously dismissed when he wanted to check how his friend was doing?

She fidgets with shame. Shit! Why did she have to react as she did? Why did she have to see him with whatever her name is, just when she was in her most vulnerable state? What should she say? How will she get out of this and still keep him as a friend? 

It has been more than half an hour when she finally approaches his tent.

"Bellamy?"

"Come in!" 

She pulls back the tent flap and steps inside. He is sitting in the room's only chair, staring straight at her. She looks around, the only place she can sit is on the bed, which feels too intimate. On the other hand, she does not want to be standing, it feels defensive, as she is set on confrontation instead of a friendly talk. In the end, she chooses the bed, sits on the edge, looking at him.

"Has something happened while I was gone?" she says.

"No, but something happened this morning, right?" He is looking straight at her, pointed. 

"What then?" She hears how false it sounds.

"Come on! You know exactly what I mean. Or, do we still have nothing to talk about?" He looks angry now.

She sighs deeply, raises her arms in experation, shaking her head slightly. "Bellamy, can we just let it go, not go there?"

"No, we can not! What the hell happened? Have I done something wrong? Trampled on your toes? Why did you look like I had slapped you when I came out of my tent this morning, and why did you treat me like I was crap under your shoe when I wanted to talk to you afterwards?" 

Clarke pinches herself over the bridge of her nose, makes a grimace and then looks at him again.

"I do not know, ok? It was so weird. I have not seen ... no ... I mean, it's been a while since you had ... well, since I've been back, I have not seen you with a girl, I was just surprised, then it just became stupid, embarrassing, I mean it's private, I should have just looked away. Sorry, ok, you obviously have the right to do what you want with whomever you want. Just forget it, ok?"

She looks at him again. For an instance he looks almost disappointed, then his eyes hardens again. 

"Forget it? No way, you won't get off that easy! Why didn't you just tell me what you said now when I came to your tent? Why give me the cold shoulder and then just go? Is that how it is going to be from now on, if I do something that doesn't suit you, Princess?" 

The last word he says ironically, as he did in the beginning, before they became friends. How will she handle this? What should she do? 

"Bellamy, I'm sorry, okay? I was taken by surprise, I ... it felt strange, ok?"

"What felt strange?"

"To see you with her, ok!" Fuck, she actually said that, didn't she? "Since I've been back it has been mostly you and me, okay? You're the one I can confinde in, the one who knows me, we have made hard decisions together, you're the one who's seen me vulnerable, you are my friend. I was well ... I do not know ... I guess I was jealous, sort off?"

He looks at her. His eyes soften. "Jealous?"

She rolls her eyes, gets up, "Yes, yes. Gloat all you want. But, are we ok now? Because I've had a crappy night and really need to go and catch some sleep?"

He gets up, walks towards her. He stops in front of her. 

"Nightmares?" he says, stretching out a hand, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear.

And with that little gesture the facade she has put up crumbles, she trembles, his hand that has landed on her shoulder is so warm. He catches it too, of course he does, how the atmosphere has suddenly changed. He looks her in the eyes, his gaze so intense.

"Clarke ..." he says softly. 

"Good night," she says, turns and walks out into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Finally alone in her tent, she feels like she can breathe for the first time that day. She is so tired, tired to the bone. Sometimes she feels like the weight of the world, litterarly, is on her shoulders. She didn't choose this, being a leader, with all the responsibility. Somehow it chose her, and now she is stucked with doing the best of what faith has offered her. 

She slowly undresses, then quickly washes off in the sink. She'd wanted to take a shower, but just the thought of having to go out again to the common shower tent makes her reconsider. Tomorrow, she thinks. 

When she crawls into bed, she suddenly remembers Bellamy's warm hand on her shoulder, his eyes and the way he said her name, with pity in his voice. The shame of it is coloring her cheeks red. He knows. Or at least he guesses. And he feels sorry for her! This she just can't take, her pride forbids it. She once again curses this whole hideous day, wishing she could turn back the clock. 

"Princess?" Bellamy's voice, just outside.

What does he want now? Her heart is rushing. She wants to cry out "Yes!" but no, this is where she has to be strong. She can't cope with more emotions and confessions, embarrassment or confrontations today. So she keeps silent, pretending that she has already fallen asleep. 

Suddenly the canvas rustles and she can make out his silhouette in the opening.

"Clarke?" 

She closes her eyes, goes still (please, go away! Please, do not go!) She can feel him getting closer. Oh god, what does he want? Doesn't he get that she is sleeping? Will he wake her up? 

He stops, standing silently by her bed. Suddenly she feels him sitting down on the edge of the bed, he sits still for a moment, seems to be hesitating, then he reaches out and caresses her cheek. She bolts up, startled, like she actually had been a sleep. 

"Bellamy! What are you doing here?!"

"Hush", he says and then he leans forward and kisses her. 

She is so shocked that she does nothing at all. His lips are soft, moving slowly over hers, gently, tentatively. It's a hesitant kiss, like a question - is this ok? She knows that she should pull away, stop right now before it's too late, but she is intoxicated by his scent, his warmth, his closeness. So she kisses him back. 

Immediately he becomes eager, the kiss deepens, he opens his mouth and slides his tongue along her lips, probing, and when her lips willingly parts and his tongue slides into her mouth, meeting hers, her brain short circuits and she trades her fingers in his hair (finally!) and he does the same in hers and now he starts kissing her passionately, savoring her, licking into her mouth, deeper and hungrier than before.

Clarke's insides liquifies, her heart is beating in a frantic rhythm and his kisses sends sparks flying directly to her groin. She tightens, she starts to throb, to get wet, her body so responsive to his. And then she feels his hands caressing her sides, moving up under her shirt, making a path towards her breasts and that is what wakes her up from the dream state she has found herself in. It's like getting a bucket of ice cold water over her head. She can't do this! Not like this. Not out of pure coincidence. 

She pushes him away with a muffled "No! I can't!" 

In the darkness, she sees his eyes, wide, lustblown. 

"Why not?" he says, his voice hoarse with desire, full of questions.

"I just can't, Bellamy! You are my friend, we are the leaders of this camp, we just can't!" 

"I did not know that leaders are not allowed to have fun", he answers and is trying to pull her close again. "I can make it so good for you, baby, I promise" he whispers in her ear, kissing his way down her throat. 

"No, I refuse to be another trophy in your harem!" she yells and pushes him away, hard. 

She regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth, but still, they are true. She can't reduce herself to that. She just can't. Now it's his turn to look like she has slapped him. 

"I thought you wanted this?" His voice is guarded now. "I don't get it, princess. What do you want, seriously? You send me so many mixed signals here?" His face hardens, anger present in his eyes. 

"What I want is for you to leave" she says in a muffled voice. 

"Clarke ..." 

"Can you just go now!" she yells. 

He stands up, looking at her with an expression she cannot decipher, before he turns and walks out of the tent with stiff, angry movements. And finally, she can curl up with her arms around herself and let the tears come. 

Everything they ever were, all they meant to each other, all the time it took them to reach that point where they could totally depend on the other, all that has been ruined in one single day. Damn him! Damn her! Damn her weak heart!


	5. Chapter 5

The morning after their unfortunate kiss, Clarke is greeted by a half-empty camp. After looking around for a while she finds Raven in the process of reparing a pair of walkie talkies.

"Where is everyone?" 

Raven looks up, smiles wryly and says "Good morning to you, too!"

Clarke sighs. "Sorry. Hey. But where are all the people?" 

Raven puts down the stuff she works with. 

"Define 'all'? I'm here, Monty is in the infirmary, working on the herbs, Octavia is at the stable and Jasper is still asleep, at least judging by the snoring coming from his tent. Should I continue, or can you be more specific?" 

Clarke sighs again. "The guards? Mira, Hera?" She pauses. Takes a deep breath. "Bellamy?" 

Raven rolls her eyes. "Oh, you mean our great leader who was in such a rosy mood this morning? That yelled and barked like a mastiff, and gave orders to the left and right? He has pulled out with half of the guards and whomever he thought could be useful and has gone away to the ruins of Mount Weather. Apparently they will try to salvage the tools and materials, or something. Do not ask me, I kept myself away from his rant. I have no idea what crawled up his ass, but it must surely be something. I haven't seen him so angry and grumpy in forever. Someone obviously needs to get laid!" 

Clarke doesn't respond, but she feels how fear is tying a hard knot in her stomach.

•

She spends the day worrying, it is digging a hole in her chest, eating her. She tries to behave as usual, managing her chores, participating in the meals, talking to her friends, but she knows how stiff and unfocused she must seem, how she is just going through the motions without actually being present. She can't mind herself to care. All her thoughts are constantly occupied, creating the worst possible scenarios of Bellamy trapped, hurt or even dead at the ruins of Mount Wheather. 

Raven is watching her with a curious look in her eyes, Monty looks worried, and she catches Octavia studying her on several occasions with an opaque expression. But nothing has been like it should be between her and Octavia for a long time, so it doesn't feel like it's the right time for intimate revalations.

•

The week that follows will be among the worst she's experienced since they landed on Earth. 

After Finn's death, she was strangely disconnected, all focused on survival, finding strategies to save her people from Mount Weather. The grief and disgust over what she had done came later. 

But then she had Bellamy by her side. Even after Lexa's death, he was there. They did not talk much, either about Finn or Lexa or Gina, but he followed her on long walks in the woods, in search of medical plants or fish or berries and mushrooms. 

At least that was the official version, but they both knew it was just an excuse to try to walk off the anxiety originating from the memories that consumed and the wounds that would never fully heal. They walked together, side by side, in silence, exchanged glances, gave eachother unspoken understanding, offered forgiveness, a promise to always be there through the pain.

Now she is alone, and the thought of him never returning, of being alone for the rest of her life, carrying the burden of all these deaths alone, terrifies her. He is the only one who will ever totally understand and accept her, and now he is gone.

The nights are spent in anxiety, sleepless. The brief moments she dozes off she dreams disjointed nightmares where Bellamy takes Finn's place by the pole, and when she shoves the knife in his heart he whispers "you killed us." She wakes with a start, drenched in sweat, entangled in the sheets and with her heart pounding. It takes the rest of the night for her to calm down.

•

Five days after Bellamy's squad went out they come back. They carry two wounded, one is Mira, the other is Bellamy. 

He is pale and sweaty on the stretcher, his eyes closed, his face a frown. He is clearly in pain, she can tell even from a distance. 

"Take them to the infirmary!" she cries and runs beside the stretchers. 

Once there, she looks at Mira first. The tough guard has scrapes and cuts, as well as a significantly swollen knee, but after a thorough investigation, Clarke is assured that nothing is broken. 

"Use liniment and wrap it properly!" She turns towards Mira. "It will be crutches for a few days, ok?" 

Mira's nodding, grimacing a little. With a heavy heart Clarke turns to face the second bar, where Abby is just cutting up the leg on Bellamy's pants. 

"How bad is it?" 

Abby looks up. "He's got a fracture. It looks like a clean break, though. I think I'll be able to splint this nicely. I'm more worried about a possible infection, but we'll see. Can you help me? I must set the bones, can you hold down his thigh for me?" 

Clarke pales, but nods. 

Abby leans over Bellamy. "Bellamy, I need to set your leg. It will hurt, but you must try to be still?" 

Bellamy looks up, clenching his jaw, then nodding towards Abby. Then his eyes fall on Clarke. She tries to smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. 

He turns away, says "Just do it!" 

The sound of his scream, the snap of bone and how his body becomes limp immediately afterwards makes Clarke's stomach turn. When Abby's splinted his leg, Clarke bolts, runs out of the infirmary and vomits.

•

Later in the evening when Clarke is sitting alone in her tent, trying to bring order in the chaos that is her mind, Abby comes by. 

"Clarke, can I talk to you for a little bit?" 

"Sure, come on in." 

Abby sits down opposite Clarke, taking her hands into hers. "Honey, how are you?" 

"Ok, how so?" 

Abby sighs, tilts her head slightly, reaches out and strokes her hair. 

"Really? You have been acting a little strange this week. Bellamy too. He set off on an expedition without having talked it through either with me or Marcus and risked both his and others' lives doing so. According to several, you seem to have had some kind of argument the night before. Do you want to talk about it? Is there anything I need to know about you and Bellamy?" 

Clarke immediately gets defensive."Mom, that's between me and Bellamy!" 

Abby sighs."Ok, I can respect that. But can I just ask, are you together? Like, having sex?"

Clarke cringes. "Mom! No!!!" 

Abby shakes her head slightly, getting up. "Ok. I do not want to pry. But if you want to talk, you know that I will always listen?" 

Clarke nods, looking up at her mother. "Yes, I do. Ok. Thanks mom." 

Abby ruffles her hair. "I love you, sweetheart." 

Clarke manages a smile. "I love you too." 

•

The next morning Clarke goes to the infirmary. She does not know how she will react. What she should feel. What she wants to say. But she has to see him. 

He is in the back. His head is turned away. When she comes near, she sees that he's asleep. Clarke looks around. No one else is in sight, so she takes a chair and sits down next to the bed.

He looks so peaceful where he lays. Soft. His curly, dark hair over the pillow. His long eyelashes resting against his freckled cheeks. She loves his freckles. She begins to count them. He has freckles on his lip too. Her eyes travels to his mouth, it looks so soft. She remembers his kiss.

Slowly she reaches out her hand, letting her forefinger trade lightly over his lips. She withdraws her hand. No reaction. He seems to be in deep sleep. So she can't help herself. She leans over him and gently presses her lips against his. 

She strokes his forehead, gets up, takes one last look at him, and then she leaves him to his sleep, never turning around to look at him. Had she done so, she would have seen him open his eyes and look at her with longing written on his face. But she doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter. Hope you'll enjoy! Kudos and comments are always welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

The day after, Bellamy has a high fever. Abby comes by Clarke's tent to let her know. Apparently what Abby was afraid of has happened, an infection has taken hold in the bone. It was expected, since their immune systems are still so unaccustomed to the throng of bacteria and viruses that now surrounds them. 

"Just me and Jackson may find ourselves in the infirmary at the moment. We will take shifts and take turns to watch over Bellamy until the fever breaks." 

She does not say "if the fever breaks" but the words hang in the air between them. 

"Mom, I need to see him!" Clarke is trying to sound calm, determined. Abby just shakes her head. 

"Honey, he's not conscious, he is raving, it is useless. More importantly, he is so susceptible to infection right now, I can not risk it." 

"But I just want to ...'' 

"Clarke, he could die if he gets another infection!" Abby snaps, sharply, then softens. "It will be as I said. I promise to let you know as soon as he gets better."

•

Clarke, whos nerves have been on edge for almost a week, can't take anymore. "He could die ..." The words go on repeat in her weary head. In the evening, when some of their mutual friends are planning to have a small barbecue, she decides to join in. She sees several raised eyebrows, it's a rare sight to see her take part in the parties or social events. 

When she immediately accepts Jasper's offer of moonshine, even more eyebrows are raised, but she can not find it in her to care what they think. She needs to forget, be blurred, drown her worries. When she rapidly empties her third cup, she feels a hand on her arm. It is Octavia.

"Can you get up, or do I have to drag you?" she asks brusquely and nods at a table some distance from the fire. 

Clarke snorts, rises and realizes that she is more drunk than she thought. Octavia sits down at the table, looking at her with sarcasm in her eyes.

"So, I guess there is a reason for this unexpected social experiment you are conducting?" 

Clarke is not responding. As they left the heat of the fire, the singing, the murmur and laughter, she is quickly sobering and thoughts on Bellamy lying in a tent not far away, fighting for his life cut into her innermost, makes her want to cry or scream. 

"Whatever has happened between my... brother and you, it seems to eat you up inside. You might as well tell me. I know him better than anyone else, and how he behaved before he left clearly indicated that something was wrong between the two of you. You are the only one who can get him to lower his defences and the only one who can make him freak out so completely. Well, apart from me, that is. At least ... I used to. Before." 

Pain contorts Octavia's face. The grief she feels for Lincoln is still raw, the disappointment and the distance between her and Bellamy is miles wide. Even more remarkable that Octavia is sitting here, talking about Bellamy. In addition, with Clarke, of all people.

"I do not know, Octavia. Bellamy and I ... it's complicated. In many ways." 

"Do you love him?" Octavia looks at her calmly as Clarke gasps in surprise. "Because I'm pretty sure he loves you. He hasn't said anything, but it means nothing in itself, because we barely talk to each other nowadays. On the other hand, I doubt he would have said anything before, either. I'm not even sure that he knows himself." 

Octavia smiles a little awry, as she used to do towards Bellamy before Lincoln died, and all that was soft and warm in Octavia broke.

"What do you mean?" Clarke says. Everything inside her is suddenly very still but at the same time in complete alertness, due to what Octavia just said. Octavia looks cold and turned off again. 

"He is so thick headed and stubborn that I do not know if he realizes that what he feels for you is love" she replies. 

"And what makes you think that it is?" Clarke continues. Octavia looks slightly annoyed. 

"Because I know Bellamy, I've seen how he looks at you. How he listens to you. How he wants and needs to get your approval." 

Clarke shakes her head. "Octavia, we are friends ..." 

"Bullshit! Bellamy does not look at Raven or Harper as he looks at you. He doesn't need nor seek their approval. But when he looks at you, it's like you're his light, his guiding star. He loves you. The question is, what do you feel for him?" 

Octavia looks tired, throwing an angry glance at Clarke. 

"Please, do not make him into a new Finn, someone you can lead around the camp as an obedient, lovesick dog. Or have you already managed to step on his heart, Clarke? Was that why he went off on that idiotic expedition?" 

Clarke stares at Octavia. How is it possible that the young, innocent girl that stepped down on the ground when they first came to earth not long ago so quickly turned into this harsh, bitter woman? Part of her does know, but she still can't help retaliating. 

"I wonder what Lincoln would have said about the new you?" 

A wave of pain dulls Octavia's features. 

"Sorry," Clarke rushes, immediately regretting her words. "I should not have said that. It was cruel and uncalled for. I've had a hellish week and I do not want to fight. I care more about Bellamy than anyone else and I want to neither offend nor control him. Can we just leave it at that?" 

Clarke gets up and goes, leaving the party.

"Remember what I said!" she hears Octavia shouting after her. As if she could forget it.


	7. Chapter 7

Bellamy's fever is dangerously high the following three days. Every time Clarke sees Abby from a distance she looks worried. Neither she nor Jackson leaves the infirmary. They get food delivered and they sleep there, taking turns watching over Bellamy twentyfour hours a day. The only time they leave are when they go to the bathroom or to take a quick shower. 

Clarke's nerves are all over the place. She feels like she wants to yell, cry, hit something, hurt herself. In the end she goes almost cathatonic, sitting on her bed, staring out at nothing, frozen in agony.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, Abby finally comes by to see Clarke. 

"Hello, sweetheart. I just wanted to let you know, the worst is over now. Bellamy's fever broke this morning. He is actually awake now."

Clarke exhales, releases all the tension she has kept inside, then collapses on the bed and starts crying. 

"Clarke, honey..." 

Abby sits down next to her, and puts her arm around her. Clarke cries for a good, long while, all the stress and anxiety she has carried for so long (years?) comes out in whimpers and sobs and Abby just sits there quietly and let her cry, just holds on to her through it all. 

Finally Clarke calms down. "Can I see him?" she asks. 

Abby is smiling, wryly. "That was the first thing he was asking when he woke up, he asked me to go and get you. If I don't do as he says, I suspect that he will try to jump here instead. Stubborn guy. Almost as stubborn as you. Almost." 

•

When Clarke enters the infirmary Bellamy is sitting up in bed, supported by pillows and cushions. He looks haggard, but he has some color in his cheeks and he is bickering with Jackson, who is standing at the side of the bed with an emptied cup in his hand. When Jackson sees Clarke he says something to Bellamy, nods towards Clarke and leaves. 

Bellamy's gaze meets Clarke's and they just look at each other for a long time. Then Clarke takes a few quick steps towards the bed and finally she is by his side and he is safe and warm and alive and when he puts his arms around her and pulls her into a hug, she starts crying again. 

For a long time they just sit there, embracing each other in silence. She breathes in his warm skin, his scent, his soft curls against her cheek. Everything that has been broken between them seems to heal during that embrace. 

Finally, she pulls back and looks at him. "How are you?" 

He smiles mischievously. "Excellent! If I'll get those hugs every time I almost die, I might expose myself to danger more often!" 

Clarke hits him lightly on the arm.

"Ouch! Do not abuse the invalid!" 

"Stop joking about your death then! Do you know how worried I was? I told you I couldn't lose you too, what part of that did you not understand?" 

Bellamy's face is suddenly serious, his jocularity is all gone. "I'm so sorry, Princess. I was an idiot. I know that." He looks at her intensly. 

"I was an idiot, too." Clarke says.

Both are silent. They both know they are not talking about his recklessness anymore, they are talking about what transpired between them that led up to said recklessness. 

They seek answers in each other's eyes, but no one seems ready to give any yet. So she lets them off the hook, changes the subject to something lighter. They will have plenty of time to solve wathever needs to be solved later. 

"When can you get out of here?" Clarke asks. 

Bellamy sighs. "Abby refuses to let me out until tomorrow. She says I should consider myself lucky that she lets me out at all instead of locking me up for some reflection time, something she thinks I clearly need." 

Clarke smiles."I agree with her completely, for once!" 

Bellamy rolls his eyes. "I sensed that you would. I will be hearing about this for ages now, won't I?" 

Clarke grins and nods. "Every time we must make a decision and we disagree, I will point out how bad it turns out when you get to make the decisions!" she smirks. 

"Hahaha!" Bellamy frowns at her, "Hilarious, really. I just had some bad luck." 

Clarke stops with the friendly batter, all serious at once. "What happened, exactly?" 

Bellamy grimashes. "We were trying to get to the hospital part, to try to salvage as much medical supplies and medicines as we could. We took the backstairs but suddenly parts of the wall collapsed. I was in the lead, so it mostly collapsed over me. Mira pulled me out, even though she herself was hurt. What an amazon she is, that girl!" 

Bellamy looks impressed. Clarke feels a pang of jelousy, but refuses to let it take hold. Get it together! she thinks. Now that you're friends again, finally can talk and be relaxed in each other's company, there is no time for such small, selfish feelings. Besides, she knows there is nothing going on between Mira and Bellamy, and she refuses to be that person who wants sole right to her friends. 

She rises from the edge of the bed where she's been sitting. 

"All your friends are waiting to hear news about you." she says. "I'll go and talk to Jasper, he has promised to fix you a back-to life-party, just so you know. He believes that it's something every man should have after walking in the shadow of death." 

Bellamy laughs. It's a wonderful sound, that makes Clarke all warm and happy inside. She realizes she has almost never heard it. How sad that is! She makes a mental note to herself that she will make it her major priority from here on to make him laugh more often. 

"See you later. Rest now" she says, and pats him on the hand. 

When she reaches the door she turns around to look at him and sees how he is resting there, looking at her with soft, sleepy eyes. She smiles at him again, giving him a little wave and then she leaves him to his rest. Her heart is lighter than she can remember that it has been for a very, very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think so far? To slow? To fast? To much? To little? I would love to hear your thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8

The day after, Bellamy gets released, but not without having to endure a long lecture from Abby about the importance of caution, to take it easy, use crutches all the time and not trying to be macho. Bellamy looks resolute, nods, says "yes ma'am" but Clarke knows him by now, and under that stern exterior she knows that he is squirming, not knowing how to get out of there fast enough. Clarke finds it very difficult to keep from laughing. 

When they are finally allowed to leave, Bellamy looks over his shoulder to make certain Abby hasn't followed them. "Jeez! Now I understand where you got your bossy genes!" 

Clarke starts laughing. "Trained by the best, as of now you have proof." She looks at him with playful eyes, but then she turns serious. "But she's right, Bellamy. You must promise to take it easy, let the bone heal?" 

Bellamy rolls his eyes. "Yes, Mom. I promise not to dance ballet in the next week or two. I'll even be a softy and let you carry my things, I promise. By the way, when will this party take place, the one Jasper would fix in my honor?" 

"On thursday. Had my wishes been taken into consideration, we would have waited a while until you're stronger, but you know how Jasper is, every reason to celebrate must be taken advantage of." 

"Sounds good to me. I could need to relax a little bit. I can't remember the last time I had a bit of fun." 

Clarke remembers the last time he talked about being allowed to have fun and feels a faint blush rising on her cheeks. She glances at him, trying to figure out if he has a hidden inuendo for his comment just now, but his face doesn't reveal anything. 

Fortunately, they reach Bellamy's tent by then. She helps him get his stuff in order. The easy silence that's been their trademark for quite some time now settles in and she once again feels how grateful she is that they are back where they were before everything became warped and wrong. At the same time, she can't help looking for signs of whether there is some truth in the thing Octavia said. That Bellamy is ... in love ... with her? But nothing he does or says suggests that he is, he is his usual self, quiet and calm. 

"Ok, can you manage on your own now? I have a lot to do, other than to be your personal nurse, you know." Clarke says. "See you for dinner? I can come by and pick you up if you want?" 

Bellamy looks up. He frowns a little. "Ehh, I'm not a puppy, Clarke? I can take care of myself, even with a broken leg? I'm housebroken, at least mostly." He blinks at her and she blushes again. 

"Ok, well, I'll see you later then?" When she leaves, she sees how he smiles with a smug expression. And her traitorous heart skips a beat because of it.

•

Come thursday Clarke gets stuck in the infirmary longer than she thought. When she finally gets to the party, it is already in full swing. Bellamy is sitting on the ground some distance away from the crowd, leaning against a tree trunk, and Anna is sitting beside him. Clarke's heart aches, but she will not repeat her mistake from last time, so she wanders over. 

"Hello!" 

Bellamy brightens. "Princess! I started to think that you weren't coming. There's a reason why there's no 'party' in front of your nickname, right?" Anna giggles, but it does not sound mean. The girl rises to her feet.

"I'll go and make out with Jasper, maybe then he'll stop being so tight-fisted about the moonshine. See you!" she says, then shouts "Jasper, give a girl som love, will ya!" and takes off.

Clarke drops down next to Bellamy. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything for her, just now?" 

"What? Anna? You've got to look long and hard to find a girl more thick-skinned then her! You could ask her to fuck off and she would totally not give a shit and stay anyway, if she didn't want to leave." 

The way he talks about Anna indicates to Clarke that he doesn't harbour any tender feelings towards the girl, but with Bellamy it's hard to tell. He isn't an open book, exactly. 

"OK, good" she says simply. With that, they turn quiet. They sit there together, listening to the music, the laughter and the murmur of their friends around the fire. She realizes that this, she and Bellamy, never in the middle of the party, never really participating, has become the natural order of things. They are a little different, not really a part of the group but not outsiders either, but always together. She doesn't mind at all. On the contrary, she realizes that she wants it to be like this. Just like this.

"I didn't sleep with Anna, just so you know." Bellamy's voice is calm, all serious at once. 

Clarke draws a deep breath, looking at him in surprise. He doesn't look at her, his gaze still on the fire and their friends. 

"What I am saying is, I had not had sex with Anna that morning you saw us. She came by to ask about something. Maybe she wanted more than that, but she got nothing. I have not been with anyone since Gina. Just so you know." 

Clarke doesn't know what to answer. Suddenly the air is charged between them again, he is so close, their shoulders touching, his hand on the ground, so close to hers. "Bellamy, you don't..." 

"I know that. But I want you to know. I'm not that guy anymore. For a long time now there's only been one girl for me, in my heart. Even before Gina. I think she knew, but she never said anything. Makes me feel like an asshole sometimes, but I can't change the truth." 

He falls silent. Clarke sits motionless, hardly dares to breathe. Then suddenly she feels his hand wrapping around hers. His breath is warm against her ear as he whispers "it is you, Clarke. Only you." 

She puts her head on his shoulder, and it is the only answer she can give him just then, but he seems to be content with it. They sit like that for a long while, silent, safe, together. After a while it starts to get chilly, they realize that the party is slowing down, people are getting up, leaving for their tents. 

Bellamy jawns. "I'm tired, I think it is time to listen to Abby and test that rest thing?" 

Clarke gets up, stretches out a hand and helps him to his feet. Together they walk in the directon of his tent. She doesn't know what he wants from her in this moment. Does he want her to leave? Stay? He makes the decision for her.

"Are you coming in for a while?" He nods toward his tent, lifts the flap and looks at her with a heated expression. She swallows, looks back at him, then follows him inside with her heart in her throat.


	9. Chapter 9

Once inside, she can't help herself any longer. When he sits down on the bed she sinks to her knees on the floor in front of him and when he instinctively spreads his legs she slides between them like she belongs there, puts her arms around him, leans forward and kisses him. 

He moans, a hungry sound tearing from his chest, almost a sob. His hands are suddenly in her hair, he tilts her head to the side to get better access, and then his tongue is in her mouth, meeting hers. All the want and need and longing that they have both felt is there, in that moment. There's such hunger in how he kisses her, and she wants him so much that it almost hurts. 

His hands are everywhere, on her shoulders, sweeping down along her sides, groping under her shirt, reaching up towards her breasts. He cups them, weighing them in his hands. Clarke presses closer, moaning into his mouth.

He pulls her sweater up over her head and then his mouth closes over one of her nipples. He nibbles at it, then flicks his tounge over it before he starts sucking it, hard. Another loud moan tears from Clarke's mouth, it feels so good, she can't stop herself. 

Bellamy releases her nipple, looking into her eyes, he looks fenceless and vulnerable in a way she's hardly ever seen him. "God, I want you so much, Clarke! I have dreamt of this so many times, fantasized about how you would feel under my hands."

"Me too, Bellamy. For so long, now." Clarke pulls away from him, standing up, taking off her pants, kicking of her boots and socks. She then resumes her place between his thighs.

He is looking hungrily at her, whispering "Fuck Clarke, you are so beautiful. I'm so in love with you that it hurts! And right now I'm so horny that I think I'll go crazy if you don't touch me. Please, can you just .. . " 

He moans loudly when her hands reaches his pants, opens the button, pulling down the zipper and taking hold of his hard cock. "Ohhh, baby..." he breathes. He feels thick and smooth in her hand. She caresses the shaft, allowing her thumb to sweep up over the head where a few drops of precum has gathered. She sucks at her thumb, savoring him. 

He groans loudly, pulling her to him for another kiss. "Lay down, Bellamy" Clarke says, and when he does, with hungry eyes on her, she pulls down his pants, then his shoes and socks. "Take off your shirt, I want to see you," she says. 

Quickly he pulls his shirt over his head. He is so gorgeous, so masculine with his broad shoulders, muscular arms and toned chest. She lets her eyes feast for a moment before she begins to caress his chest, shoulders, arms, then back, returning to his chest. She fondles his nipples, pinching them lightly. He shivers, bucking his hips, unconsciously.

She lets her fingers slowly run over his stomach, he gasps, lifting himself up on his elbows to see what she is doing. His face is slack with lust. Her fingers reaches the rim of his underwear. She teases him a little, letting her fingers trade lightly over his hard member trough the fabric. He grunts, following her fingers with his hips. She quickly pulls down his underwear and looks at him, his beautiful, strong body, his hard cock that curves up towards his stomach, the head of it glistening of precome, his balls drawn tight already. He trembles. 

Gently, she spreads his legs, pulls up the undamaged one a little higher for better access, bows down and takes him into her mouth. 

Bellamy moans "Oh, fuck, fuck! Damn, it feels so good! Oh, god, Clarke ..." 

She starts by circling her tongue around the head, teasing his slit, enjoying the sounds he emits as she does so. She licks the underside of his shaft, a long lick from the root to the head. She peers up at him while she licks him, he is propped up on his elbows, staring down at her with lust blown pupils. Then she takes hold of the shaft by the root and starts jacking him with a solid, strong hold, while she lets the rest of his cock slide in and out of her mouth, sucking on it, taking it deeper with each jerk. 

The sounds Bellamy gives off is so raw that she's never heard anything like it. He moans, grunts, gasps, saying her name, chasing her mouth with his hips. All of a sudden he trades his fingers in her hair, holding her head still, fucking into her mouth with two, three hard thrusts, desperate, and then he stiffens, quivers, and he is coming with a protracted moan, flooding her mouth with warm cum, his body spasming, shaking through his orgasm. Then he becomes heavy and still.

"Oh, my god. Clarke, it was so insanely good, I've never ..." 

She smiles a little, carefully shuffeling down in the bed besides him. He turns to her, leans forward and kisses her again. She wonders if he can feel the taste of himself in her mouth. 

"If I were not crippled with orders to take it easy, I would have wanted nothing better then to be inside you right now, fucking you until you came screaming, but as it is you'll have to settle for this". 

Then she feels his hand inside her panties, how his fingers are groping her sex, finding her opening and sliding one finger in. She moans out loud, hiding her face in his neck. 

"Oh, you're so wet and tight, Clarke. You feel so hot around my fingers. Is it all for me? Does it feel good? Do you want me as much as I want you?" 

She can't manage anything but a nod, so he pushes another finger inside her, searching, and suddenly it's like he's found a light switch. She throws her head back, starts riding his fingers, moaning, asking him to continue, "please Bell, don't stop, never stop!" 

He finds her clit and starts rubbing it in small circles as his fingers does their magic inside her. He is telling her how hot she is, how he adores her and him whispering to her while his fingers are inside her makes it even more intimate, and she is suddenly so close, balancing on the edge.

When she hears him whisper "come for me, Clarke", she tumbles over. She comes hard around his fingers, riding her orgasm, sobbing in the dark afterwards, when he is holding her. And then she finally says what she should have said a long time ago.

"I love you, Bellamy."

Bellamy pulls her closer to kiss her on the forehead and whispers "I love you too, princess. Always." When she drifts off, she can't imagine a time she ever felt happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the smut, finally. But I'm not quite done with this story yet. So one or two more chapters are comming.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.


	10. Chapter 10

The morning after is the best morning in Clarke's entire life. When she wakes up and opens her eyes, he is there, so close. His beautiful dark eyes are so soft, and when he sees that she is awake, a smile is slowly spreading across his face, and he suddenly looks so young and happy and unspoiled that something tightens in Clarke's chest and she feels so much love for him in that moment that she thinks she'll burst. 

"Good morning, princess" he says softly, stroking her cheek. 

"Hey ..." she replies sleepily. "Are you real or am I dreaming? If it's a dream, please lie, because if it is, it's the best dream I've ever had, and right now I'm so happy that I can't handle the disappointment of you turning out to be only a figment of my imagination."

He laughs, stretching out an arm, pulling her close. "I'm real, I promise. And I'm also happy. Happier than I've ever been. I love you, Clarke. So much." 

They continue to whisper endearments to each other. They are lying close, so close together, caressing each other's skin, fingers searching, exploring, slowly mapping out the beloved body of the other, learning every curve, every scar. Slowly, gentle and tender, without the previous night's heated frenzy and search for release. 

They lie there whispering, telling each other small, insignificant details about their lives, suddenly turning grave, speaking about their sorrows and griefs, about missed opportunities and invisible wounds that scarred their souls but that very few knows about and even less care for. 

In the middle of it all one of them says something that turns them into a giggling mess instead, just to suddenly fall silent, resting in each other's gazes. 

They doze off for a while. When they wake up her hand finds his soft cock resting on his thigh, and she begins to slowly caress it until he grows hard. She slides up, kissing him tenderly as she straddles him in one smooth motion, slowly descending upon him, enclosing him in her wetness.

She rides him slowly while he is holding on to her hips as she rolls them over his hardness, their eyes locked in each others, the intensity and closeness of it almost overwhelming, yet not, because it's them and they need this, and when she comes it's like a wave that pulls her with it, slow but strong, flowing inside of her, never ending, wave after wave of the sweetest pleasure engulfing her, rocking her, consuming her.

She continues to ride him through it all, rolling her hips back and forth over him, feeling him deep inside of her, how she is squeezing him tight, tight and his eyes bores into hers and it's like their souls are intertwined, as their bodies, and she can feel him climaxing too, sees it in his eyes as his pupils dialate while he is burying his seed deep inside of her, with his hands on her hips and his eyes never leaving hers. 

And they both know that from this day they are carrying a piece of eachother's soul within themselves, and that piece is what they've been missing all along. And now, they are whole. Belonging. And with that, Clarke and Bellamy are finally at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done. Hope you liked it. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I would also love suggestions about a possible storyline for a new fic. Thank you in advance!

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic. I am having so much fun writing this! Feelings, people. And angst. Rejection. Or fear of it. And eventually some smut. But mostly fluff. Enjoy! Cudos and comments are always welcome.


End file.
